


All That I Want is Just to Get Over You

by silentwhisper002



Series: After The Storm [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Based on an All Time Low Song, Canon Compliant, Heavy Angst, Its cry time, Mentions of Self-hatred, Natasha has a Horse, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sad, There’s Just A Lot of Angst Okay?, but very little comfort tho, emotional breakdown, you will probably cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26011417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentwhisper002/pseuds/silentwhisper002
Summary: All that I want is just to get over youTrouble is I can’t find a wayYou’re part of meClint tries to adjust to life without his best friend, but emotions have a funny way of screwing that up for himTitle from: Trouble Is... - All Time Low
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov
Series: After The Storm [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883713
Comments: 9
Kudos: 9





	All That I Want is Just to Get Over You

_She should be here_ , he thought, softly stroking the horse’s neck.

The gray animal lifted his head from where he’d been lazily munching sweet, green stalks of spring grass from the ground. 

“Heya, big guy.” Clint whispered as the gentle creature began snuffling his pockets for any hidden goodies he may otherwise be carrying. 

He wound his fingers into the silky black of the gelding’s mane, and produced a slice of apple from the inside of his coat. 

The horse’s ears flicked happily at the sight, and he greedily inhaled the treat. 

Normally, tending to the horses was Lila’s chore, but ever since the devastation of the final battle for humanity, trekking up to the paddocks had slowly worked its way into his daily routine. 

However, it was only _this_ horse that Clint came to check on, leaving the others to his daughter. 

Blitz had belonged to Natasha. 

They’d first found him at an auction, taken from a broken home.

Lila begged her father to save the poor thing, terrified that he’d go to slaughter if they didn’t. 

Laura hadn’t been too happy when the pair came home with another horse instead of the intended chickens, especially after they learned that the Thoroughbred was almost untrainable. He’d been so severely wronged that he’d let no one approach him. Even getting him home had been a chore. 

But when Natasha came down to visit the next week, that all changed. 

She slipped inside the pasture, despite Clint’s warning, and Blitz just walked right up to her. 

From that moment on, it had been decided that Blitz would be hers.

Now, thanks to Nat’s patience and kindness, the horse hardly flinched at a thing. 

“She should be here.” He repeated again, this time out loud.

Blitz pushed his face further into the black material of Clint’s shirt, as if he knew who the man was referencing. 

Clint remembered how within the first few weeks of Natasha’s absence, the gelding had searched frantically for his friend until he finally seemed to realize that she wasn’t coming back. 

The day after Tony’s funeral, Clint came home, his body still numb with grief, and collapsed into the horse’s side. 

Now they carried each other’s pain. 

There had been some talk in the beginning of perhaps giving the horse to Morgan, as Laura feared his presence may make Clint’s headspace worse, but he couldn’t bring himself to part with the animal. It was the last piece of her that he had left. 

Gently slipping the halter over Blitz’s ears, the archer led the horse out of it’s field, quickly shutting the gate before anyone else could follow them. 

Blitz strolled at a slow, relaxed pace, acting nothing like the wild beast he’d once been. 

The observation only made Clint’s chest clench tighter. 

Natasha—despite the walls she used to shield herself from the outside—had the biggest heart he’d ever seen; Blitz was living proof of that. 

Sure, Clint had a way of fixing leaks and loose fences, but Nat had a way of fixing _people._

After what she’d experienced in her childhood, the assassin knew what it was like to be truly alone.

Natasha hated the thought that there were others out there who shared that pain. She’d give anything to relieve it, even if that meant over-exhausting herself, or in this case, spending countless nights sleeping outside to help a broken horse grow accustomed to human presence. 

She never gave up on a single soul, and she never gave up on Blitz. He was another product of her love, but also a beacon of what they’d lost. 

Clint hadn’t realized he’d stopped moving until Blitz shoved him from behind, eager to find out where his friend was taking him. 

But Clint didn’t have it in him to take another step. 

Nat was so young, still full of life, with so much left to give to the world.

And she’d never get the chance again. 

“I should have saved her.” Clint’s voice was no more than a hoarse whisper. “It should have been me. This is _my_ fault.”

Clint slowly sank back into the grass, Blitz pacing circles around him, his tail swishing nervously, and for the first time in months, the man let himself truly feel. 

He collapsed upon the ground, tears staining the soft vegetation below him like dew drops. 

Blitz released a distressed whinny and pranced in place, unsure as how to react to the situation. 

“She’s gone and it’s my fault, don’t you see!” He screamed, “I should have been faster, I should have pulled her back up. I never should have even let her argue about it. We couldn’t have a proper funeral! She didn’t deserve _this,_ Steve should have at least brought her home! _I’m_ the reason your friend is never coming back! _Goddamnit, why don’t you hate me?!”_

The last words were high-pitched, barely audible, and Clint thought for sure, Blitz would take off running. 

But instead, the dappled gray tucked his legs beneath his large body and settled down beside the broken man. 

“Why don’t you hate me?” He asked again, “ _I_ hate me.”

Clint could feel the scratchy whiskers of Blitz’s soft muzzle poking his face, as if he were trying to wipe away the tears. The gelding whinnied mournfully, sorrow evident in the large brown eyes that Natasha had loved so much. 

It was clear that Blitz missed her too. How could he not? Natasha had practically been his mother, after all. 

Clint curled himself further into the horse’s side, allowing Blitz to protectively place his head over the older man’s shoulder. 

With his face pressed against the creature’s sleek, muscular shoulder, he inhaled the familiar scent of oat straw and fresh grass, causing his body to relax. 

Blitz remained quiet and unmoving for the most part as they sat together, only swiveling his ears at the sound of birds chirping, or twitching his pelt at the occasional fly. 

Clint found himself thankful for the silence, slowly tracing circles around the large splotches that covered the Thoroughbred’s body. 

“You’re all I have left.”

Blitz hugged him tighter as though to say, _“You’re all I have left too.”_

“All that I want,” he choked out, “is to let go, but I can’t. She was like a sister to me. How Steve was able to push that away to the back of his mind is beyond me, but I’m no super soldier. I _can’t_ forget her. I suppose that’s why I keep coming around huh, boy?”

Blitz didn’t answer him, he simply listened. 

“You were a part of her, you know that? She loved you very, very much.”

The creature blinked in response, staring innocently back at him. 

Clint ran a hand down the blaze that painted Blitz’s face. 

“I know I’ll need move on eventually, somehow find a new sense of normalcy without her here, but the trouble is, I can’t find a way.”

He exhaled another unsteady breath. 

“She’s a part of me.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
